Gift
by babies-stole-my-dingo
Summary: Christmas Day, Spike gives Illyria a gift. She decides she needs to reciprocate and brings him a surprise. PostNFA, Spike and Illyria the only survivors, and on the run from the Senior Partners. Kinda angsty. COMPLETE!
1. Illyria's Gift

  
_Title:_ **Gift**  
_Author:_ babies stole my dingo (agilebrit)  
_Fandom:_ Angel  
_Rating:_ PG-13  
_Length:_ Short story (about 3000 words)  
_Disclaimer:_ Joss is the genius behind these characters; I am but a lowly follower. I make no money from any of this, so please don't sue me.  
_Notes:_ Christmas Day, Spike gives Illyria a gift. She decides she needs to reciprocate-- and brings him a surprise. Post-NFA, Spike and Illyria the only survivors, and on the run from the Senior Partners. Kinda angsty.

* * *

**Chapter One: Illyria's Gift**

"Happy Christmas, Bluebird," Spike said diffidently, handing Illyria a blooming blue tulip, in a ceramic pot wrapped around with a bright red bow.

"What is this 'Christmas'?" she asked as she took the pot and examined the flower.

"It's a human tradition. Every year on December twenty-fifth, people celebrate this holiday by exchanging gifts. We don't have a tree to put it under--" Spike glanced around at the shabby motel room they were staying in that day. "--and a plant's impossible to wrap, but I thought you might like something that matches your eyes."

They hadn't had much to celebrate in the last seven months or so. After the battle in the alley, which had left Angel a puff of dust and Gunn dead from blood loss, they had traveled around the country, staying one step ahead of Wolfram and Hart. The Senior Partners considered them a loose end, and had made rather serious efforts to wipe them out. The combination of Spike's quick thinking and Illyria's powerful abilities, some of which were slowly returning, kept them in the land of the living--so to speak.

"Exchanging. This means I should get you a gift as well."

"Naw, pet, you don't have to do that. Just havin' you here, gift enough for me. Not often I get to spend the hols with someone I actually care about anymore." He jerked his chin at the flower. "Didn't know what else to get you. What do you give the God-King who has everything?"

Illyria tilted her head back and forth, as if listening. "This plant should not be in bloom yet. It is confused, almost frightened." She stroked a leaf between her fingers and crooned to it.

Spike frowned a little. "They do something to them so they'll bloom early. Not sure what."

"You weren't to know," she answered.

Grateful that she wasn't pummeling him for the error, he noticed that she seemed distracted. "Everything all right, luv?"

"Yes." Her enigmatic stare unsettled him. "I will return shortly with your gift."

"You don't have to--" But she waved her hand, opened a portal, and disappeared through it, closing it behind her. "Bloody hell."

###

"Merry Christmas, Dawnie," Buffy said, lifting a glass of wine in a toast to her sister and Andrew.

Dawn smiled and raised her own glass. Now that they were in Rome, and she was eighteen, a glass of wine was allowed. "Merry Christm--"

The air shimmered, and a red-leather clad, blue-haired woman stepped through. She grasped Buffy's arm in an iron grip, said, "You shall be my gift," and pulled her through the portal. It closed behind them with a little _pop_, leaving Dawn and Andrew staring in shock.

###

Spike leaped to his feet as Illyria appeared back in their motel room with the Slayer in tow. "Oh, sodding...Bluebird, what on earth have you done?"

"_Spike_?" Buffy said incredulously. "You're supposed to be dead."

"You speak of the Slayer in your sleep." Illyria wouldn't look at him. "Your memories of Fred, like Wesley's, keep you from worshiping me as you should. Nevertheless, I would do this for you. You have been a ... companion ... to me. I do not regard that lightly." She picked up the tulip. "I will go outside and commune with your gift to me."

As the door closed softly behind Illyria, Buffy sat down on the room's one chair. "I don't know whether to hit you or hug you. How long have you been back?"

"They said it was nineteen days after the battle with the First. Came back as a ghost. Couldn't pick up the phone. After I got my body back, didn't seem proper, somehow, to bother you."

"Bother me? _Bother me_?" She jumped up and paced around the cramped room.

"Honestly, pet, if I'd known what she was going to do, I'd have stopped her doing it. I hear you're all cozy in Rome now, with Dawn, and a new boyfriend. Lord knows you don't need my bloody problems coming crashing down about your head."

Buffy ran her fingers through her bangs. "I can't believe...Where? How?"

"The amulet. Angel's office at Wolfram and Hart--"

"Angel knew about this and didn't want to 'bother me' either? I swear, I'm going to kill--" She stopped abruptly at the look on his face. "What? Oh, god, no. No, Spike."

"I'm sorry, luv. Truly, I am. He went out like the Champion he was, if that's any consolation to you."

Her legs refused to hold her up, and she collapsed back onto the chair. "What about..."

"Blue and I were the only ones that got out." This was said with a bluntness that told her she'd be better off not asking any more questions about it. "Look, Buffy. I gave her a Christmas present, and she thought she needed to return the favor. I might offend her by sending you back, but you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Distraction. Distraction was of the good. "What is she?"

"Illyria. God-King of the Universe. Brought a bit low right now." He sighed. "Used to be Fredlet. Flashes of her, once in awhile. Not often."

"So, she's like Glory?"

Spike barked out a laugh. "Oh, no, pet. She's nothing like Glory, believe me."

Something he'd said earlier clicked. "What do you mean, if I don't want to stay? Why would I not want to stay?"

"I can't imagine," he said sarcastically, gesturing around the room. "Why wouldn't you want to stay with a couple of demons on the run from Wolfram and Hart, and leave the halfway normal life you've built with the Nibblet and the Immortal behind? How utterly silly of me." He reached across the space between them and took her hand. "Now that you've got all the other Slayers backing you up, you have a chance to relax. I wouldn't want to take that away from you, Buffy. Go home to your little sis. You love her, and she needs you."

"But I love you too, Spike." She frowned a little. "Are you and Illyria...?"

His turn to jump up and pace and run his fingers through his hair. "Oh, God, no. I am not having this conversation," he muttered.

"Spike! Then what? Because it looks like you'd rather be with her than me, from where I'm sitting."

"It's not like that, not really. She won't admit it, but she needs me. And at least...at least I always know where I stand with her. And when Smurfette's pounding the stuffing out of me, it's not personal." He didn't look at Buffy when he said this. He was spared further discussion as the door crashed open and Illyria burst into the room, slamming the door behind her and carefully placing the tulip on the dresser.

"The Wolf, Ram, and Hart have found us again," she said as she turned the lock.

"Bloody hell." Spike glanced over at Buffy as he grabbed swords and crossbows out of their weapons bag. "This isn't your fight, luv."

She tested the heft and edge of a battleaxe, and snorted. "Yeah, right."

"What are they this time, Bluebird?"

"Humanoid, muscular, and green. Two of them. They have a large red jewel in the center of their foreheads."

Buffy's head whipped around. "They what?"

Illyria didn't have time to answer. The door splintered open and a pair of Mohra demons armed with curved swords leaped into the room. Without hesitating, they attacked, dodging the crossbow bolts Spike fired at them. Buffy and Spike took on one, while Illyria battled the other. "Just like old times, eh, pet?" Spike grinned and parried a blow.

"You enjoy this--" Buffy grunted as her strike at the jewel was blocked. "--entirely too much. Try to smash the that ruby thing in the middle of its forehead."

Spike sliced the Mohra across the arm, sending glowing green ichor flying, and dodged the counterstroke. "That kills them?"

"Yeah." A swing and a clang as her axe met the demon's sword.

Illyria tilted her head as she took in that snippet of information. A cut across her brow bled freely, but her foe was wounded as well, in more than one place.

Acting in concert, Buffy and Spike attacked their opponent. Spike distracted it by jabbing and cutting at it repeatedly, as demon goo sprayed around the room, and Buffy finally got the blow she wanted in and smashed the jewel. The demon disappeared in a flash of light.

They turned to Illyria. The slice on her forehead had apparently been a lucky hit, because she was almost casually taking her adversary apart. With a contemptuous gesture, she disarmed it, reversed her sword so the hilt was forward, and shattered its gem. It howled in anguish, but before it vanished, it swiped its arm across her forehead, mingling their blood.

As Buffy and Spike looked on in fascinated horror, the blood swirled around and Illyria's cut healed before their eyes. A glow started at the top of her head and moved down her body, and she collapsed.

Spike was on his knees beside her in an instant, but recoiled and scrabbled backwards when she looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "Spike? What...? What's the matter?"

Spike's voice was a bare croak. "Freddikins?"


	2. Buffy's Gift

  
**Chapter Two: Buffy's Gift**

Illyria's hand went to her face. "I feel so strange." Spike reached hesitantly for her, and she swatted him and snarled, eyes flashing back to blue. "I do not need your assistance, half-breed."

Buffy's head was on a swivel, going back and forth between Spike and Illyria. "What just happened?"

"Silence, Slayer. This is nothing to do with you."

"Easy there, pet. No need to be rude about it. The Slayer's got resources and connections, and we can find out just exactly what's going on."

Fred's eyes looked at him from under Illyria's hair. "Hurry."

Illyria huddled on the bed while Spike rubbed soothing circles on her back and frowned, as Buffy talked on her cell phone. Giles was apparently being...difficult.

"Look, Giles, I don't care, okay? Spike was on our team, and as far as I'm concerned he's still on our team. He hasn't proven anything different to me yet." The phone squawked. "He didn't kidnap me! For God's sake, you know that if I'd known he was alive I would've gone running to him anyway." Spike's eyebrow went up at that. "The jury's still out on Illyria, I guess, but she's with Spike, so for now I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt. And she got Mohra blood on her, and now she's gone all wonky. We need to know how to help her."

Spike had given her the lowdown on how Illyria was an Old One who'd taken over Fred's body, and that Fred appeared to be manifesting again because of the Mohra blood. She relayed the information to Giles and hung up. "He doesn't know anything offhand. The Old Ones pretty much pre-date humanity; there's not much about them in his musty old books."

"What about Mohra blood?"

"That we can find out about. Give him a little while."

"We might not have a little while. The Senior Partners know where we are now."

"I can take care of that too." She punched a speed-dial button on her mobile. "Will? How quick can you teleport three, um, people to a safe place, and put wards up to protect two of them from some nasties? Can you get on that? Call me back as soon as you've got it set up, 'kay? Thanks."

"'Preciate it, Buffy," Spike said. "More than you know."

Buffy watched him rubbing Illyria's back for a minute. "She's special to you, isn't she?"

"Yeah." His voice was husky, and he didn't want to look at her.

"Do you love her?"

The bluntness of the question threw him for a second. He hunted his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and lit one, one-handed. "We've been through a lot together, she and I."

"And what about Fred?"

"Fred belonged to Wes. I never had a chance with her, even if I'd made a move."

Buffy's phone warbled out Slayer's "Reign in Blood." "Talk to me, Will," she said, while Spike smiled in quiet delight at her choice of ringtone and stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette. She hung up a minute later. "Ready to go?"

He jumped up, grabbed the weapons bag and the plant, and set them between himself and Illyria. "As we'll ever be, I suppose."

Buffy sat on the bed, grasping Spike's hand and touching Illyria's back. They all shimmered and disappeared from the room

And reappeared in a large, anonymous warehouse, with crossbows pointed at them in the hands of about five different Slayers, supervised by Giles. "Whoa, guys, stand down!" Buffy said. "Spike's a friend, and Illyria's in no shape to cause any trouble."

The weapons lowered, but most of the girls still looked suspicious. Willow gave them a little wave. "I've got your wards set up, Buff. They should be safe. Well," she amended, "as safe as it's possible to get with an Old One and a vampire in the same room." She approached Illyria, still huddled on the floor, with Spike hovering protectively. "Wow, her aura's really messed up." She frowned. "Is that Fred?"

"In a way," Spike replied. "You two met?"

"Yeah, once. Boy, I'm getting a whole split-personality vibe here. It would be better if I could get a clearer look at her."

Spike patted Illyria on the shoulder. "C'mon, pet, upsa dais'. Need to let Red here have a gander at you."

Illyria raised her head, blue eyes glittering defiantly. "I am Illyria, God-King of the Universe. I need no aid from these human vermin."

"Yeah, that song got old about the time you started looking like Fred again. Won't hurt, anyway, right?"

"Very well." She rose to her feet. "Although I do not see how such insects may help." Her eyes went to brown. "I'm grateful, Willow, more than I can say." Blue again. "Know this. If you attempt to harm me, I will have your spine as my necklace and your intestines for a belt."

"Oh, like we haven't heard that before," Willow said with an eyeroll.

As Willow examined Illyria, Buffy and Giles took Spike aside. "You look exhausted, Spike," Buffy said. "I can't believe you didn't come to us before this."

"Yeah, well, battling the Senior Partners' assassins and trying to keep a lid on Babe the Blue Ox there every day for seven months will take it out of you. Not ashamed to admit I could do with a spot of rest."

"You can stay with us as long as you need to. In fact, we could use you here with the Council. You've got experience training girls, and I bet we could find a place for...whoever she turns out to be. Could probably get the Senior Partners off your backs too."

"Buffy, I'm not entirely sure that's terribly prudent," Giles said.

Spike gave him a hard glare. "And I'm not sure I want to work with the bloody wanker who refused to help us when all this first happened with Fred to begin with."

"You did what?" Buffy asked, rounding on Giles.

"They were working at Wolfram and Hart. What was I supposed to think?"

"That maybe they had a plan? God, Giles, I can't believe you did that. Especially without talking to any of us first."

"Well, be that as it may, Buffy," Giles said, taking his glasses off and cleaning them, "this is the situation we're faced with right now. And I still say that it may not be the best thing to have Spike and Illyria working with us."

She put her hands on her hips and faced him down. "Based on what, exactly?"

Before he had a chance to answer, Willow came up to them. At the expression on her face, Spike grabbed for his cigarettes and lit one, hiding the tremor in his hands as best he could. "What's the word, Red?"

"It's not good, that's for sure. I don't think we can help her without destroying one or the other of them."

"I won't let you do that." He blew out a stream of smoke and ran his hand through his hair. "Fred's been through quite enough, thank you. And so's Bluebird."

"But, both of them? Sharing the body? Won't that be harder on them than sending one of them on to the next place?"

"And I'm supposed to make a Sophie's Choice as to which one? Bugger that for a game of soldiers, Witch. I won't kill Fred again, and I won't send Illyria to a hell dimension."

"I'm sorry, Spike. I don't have a way of transferring one or the other of them into a new body."

His chin came up. "Then they'll have to learn to share, I guess. Your offer still open, Slayer? You can make us useful and make sure the Senior Wankers don't bother us?"

"Buffy, I'm afraid I must object," Giles said. "The choice seems clear. Fred was human; Illyria is merely a demon in human form. I realize you have affection for Illyria, Spike"

"Affection? Bloody hell, Watcher, you're a heartless bastard and make no mistake. Illyria has fought by my side and watched my back for the better part of seven months now. I'm not going to allow her to just be killed out of hand on your say-so." Spike crossed his arms and stepped between Giles and Illyria.

Giles opened his mouth to say something else, but Buffy silenced him with a furious glare. "Yeah, Spike, we can help you guys out. No problem." Her mouth quirked up. "Merry Christmas."

"Thanks, luv. Did you tell Bluebird anything, Red?"

"No. I thought it would be better if you did." They glanced over at Illyria, who sat on the floor, stroking the tulip and singing to it.

"I'll go break it to her, then. Seems only proper it should be me." He tossed his cigarette away and walked over to her, squatting down beside her and putting his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, pet."

"Spike." She didn't look up. "The countenance of the sorceress told all. They are unable to assist us."

"Not entirely true. But it looks like you're going to have a split personality."

"Yes. I look forward to getting to know the Burkle persona better. You were fond of it. What will you do?" She seemed subdued. "Will you abandon me, now that my power has been diminished?"

"What? Why would I do that? Cor, luv, you need me more than ever, now. I don't abandon people who need me. Thought you knew me better than that."

"I'm sorry." Fred's accent still jarred him. "I didn't mean..."

"Freddi...Leery...It's all right. Look, the Council's going to do what they can to get the Senior Partners to back off, and they have a job for us, if we want it."

"Purpose is good, right?" she said, with a trembly smile.

Risking a pounding, he pulled her into a hug and spoke into her hair. "Yeah, pet. We'll get through it. The three of us, together."

_The End_


End file.
